Tall Dark Stranger
by pacejunkie
Summary: Since bringing her home, the Doctor has watched over Donna from a distance, but one day they meet, and she is determined to discover who this tall dark stranger is, unknowingly becoming attached to him all over again. What’s the Doctor to do?


**Title:** Tall Dark Stranger

**Fandom:** Doctor Who

**Rating:** PG/K+

**Characters:** Ten, Donna, special appearance by Malcolm Taylor

**Summary:** Since bringing her home, the Doctor has watched over Donna from a distance, but one day they meet, and she is determined to discover who this tall dark stranger is, unknowingly becoming attached to him all over again. What's the Doctor to do? Takes place over a period between _Journey's End_ and _Waters of Mars_. Angst and adventure.

**Word Count:** 5,779

**Disclaimer:** Doctor Who is not mine, and this is obvious, because if it were Ten would never die.

**A/N:** Okay I haven't posted a fic in about six months and I'm awfully sorry about that. A stubborn little medical problem preventing me from spending long hours in front of the computer and as a result this nice little idea languished for a bit. But I dusted it off and was pleasantly surprised. It might even fit into canon if you squint. Comments are cuddled and given cocoa.

* * *

In the small side streets of Chiswick a tall dark stranger waits.

He is protected by the gloom and the comforting hum of the blue box that stands like a sentinel tucked back in the alley behind him. A long brown coat keeps out the chill. The streets are deserted, and his senses tell him it is nearly midnight. The thought reminds him not of a time, but of a place; a planet so very far away where he once visited with a friend, his best friend. The memory is slightly faded at the edges like a dream when in fact it was a place of nightmares, made tolerable only by her presence.

_Stop it_, he chides himself silently, _those days are over._

The words return in his head as though the blue box were debating with him. _If they are over_, it says, _then why are you here?_

He ignores the voice as his gaze returns to the pub across the street. She went out tonight with some mates and would soon be returning to her car. It isn't the safest of neighbourhoods and the only spot she had been able to find is over two blocks away.

_I'm just here to watch,_ he finally replies, _that's all, just to make sure she gets to her car safely. _

She had been in the pub for over two hours now, bumping up against closing time. He passes the time by playing recreational mathematics in his head. It is easier than remembering.

_Oh come on, Doctor,_ he sighs.

This time he nearly talks out loud, surprising a young couple walking by. They glance nervously over their shoulders and quicken their steps, arms tight around each other. He skulks back deeper into the shadows.

_Surely there are more important things for the last of the Time Lords to be doing, saving a planet or an entire species perhaps?_

Just then Donna Noble emerges from the Bell and Crown, chattering away in an unbroken stride, laughing. She waves to her mates and walks off in the opposite direction down the darkened city street, her ginger hair flying in the night breeze. The Doctor gives her a good head start and then keeps pace behind, following silently until she reaches her car in blessed ignorance and drives away.

_No,_ he decides, _there is nothing that is more important right now._

Nor had there been for the past several months, when he began his vigils, not long after he brought her home, wiped of all memory of him. In truth he had returned her to her family in exactly the same state in which he had found her, but that was cold comfort, the type of spin that would make a politician proud. He knew he had returned her diminished.

Shortly after that he found himself returning to Chiswick, for one reason or another, never making contact, just watching.

He watches as Donna goes back to temping, switching jobs like television channels.

He watches her go to the pubs after work with her mates.

He watches her go home at night, with a bored expression on her face.

It feels good to see her but it also makes him sad. She seems fine on the surface but she lacks that spark, the one she had when she travelled with him.

~*~

He tears himself away for a visit to Victorian London but soon returns. Donna is starting a new job today, processing forms for a construction firm. He parks the TARDIS and pretends to read a newspaper as he waits on the corner. She breezes right by him with the other morning commuters without as much as a glance.

Coffee in hand, Donna checks her watch and knows she is running late. Her glance goes left and right up the High Street, and all at once she makes the decision to take a short cut through some alleyway that will lead her to her destination quicker. Turning in, she leaves the comfort of the crowd.

Then a young bloke with his hoodie up enters the same alley behind her, his hands shoved deep in his pockets.

_Best not to intervene,_ the Doctor decides. Instead, he follows and takes a position from behind a garden wall that lines the path and watches. Saving her purse is not worth the risk of being discovered by her. He can't risk her memory of him returning.

The man reaches her and he mutters something to get her attention. Donna turns and the man makes a grab for her purse. Dropping her coffee with a messy splash, she holds on and fights back. The struggle ensues and she begins hurling insults at the thief, more enraged than frightened. The Doctor smiles, hanging onto the wall, shock of hair and eyes just rising above the brick.

_She'll kick him in the shins next. _

And she does.

The bloke isn't doing too well but he refuses to give up and walk away empty handed. Still, it looks for all the world like Donna isn't backing down either. Leather straps taught between their greedy grips, she finishes insulting him and moves on to his mother.

She is so caught up in the moment that she doesn't notice the knife.

The mugger's ace in the hole is a six inch pearl handled flick knife that emerges from his pocket. Donna's eyes are on the man's face, no doubt hoping to memorise it for her police statement. The man holds her gaze keeping her distracted as his hand remains low, the point of the blade just an inch from her midsection.

The Doctor's hearts skip a beat and his head whips back around to the busy street corner. _Donna's yelling like a banshee now, someone will intervene any second. _ But she doesn't have seconds.

The street is thick with pedestrians, some of whom even peer down the alley as they pass, but then look quickly away as though ashamed, like they're invading someone's privacy by witnessing their mugging. Her shouts go unheeded. The Doctor curses the humans.

He turns back, just as tearful, insistent words echo in his head from centuries back, in Pompeii.

_Just save someone_.

The Doctor takes his sonic and brings his arm over the garden wall. The mugger pulls his arm back and begins to thrust it forward and end the fight. Taking aim, the Doctor presses the button and a blast of sonic waves knocks the knife from the man's hand, sending it flying out of reach. He looks down in surprise, notices the crowd of people pretending not to watch from a safe distance and in a panic, he runs.

Donna is left standing there on her own, her purse held close to her chest. Although she would never admit to being frightened she is shaking slightly, and taking deep breaths.

_Time to go, _the Doctor decides, climbing down from the wall. Emerging at the end and nearly to the corner he is spotted.

"Oi! You there!" she calls to him. "Stop!"

His first impulse is to run like the thief. But he doesn't want to attract the attention of the crowd or they might think he was a party to the crime. Besides, this is Donna, and he knows she will only just pursue him if he ignores her. So he stops, closes his eyes, takes one deep breath and then slowly turns back. He doesn't approach, but just stays there at the top of the path.

"I saw you there," she says, "I don't know how you did it, but you scared him off."

"Are you all right?" he calls to her.

"Yeah," she replies, "and thanks."

The Doctor nods, satisfied and turns to leave again, but Donna isn't finished.

"Wait, please!" Donna calls after him, closing the distance between them. "Do I know you?"

"I don't think so," he responds over his shoulder, still moving.

She follows as he turns left and joins the foot traffic of the early morning business district. Donna is nearly keeping pace with him now.

"Well can I at least know your name?" she asks as they walk. "I'm Donna."

The Doctor stops short. "John Smith," he says.

Donna stares, concentrating for a minute and then seems to recall something. The Doctor watches her as the gears turn, wanting to vanish.

"Hang on," she says finally, "I _do_ know you."

_No you don't Donna, you can't. Please don't..._

"You were at my mum's house that night last year," she reveals. "Who are you?"

"No one, honestly," he insists, "I was just passing by and I saw the mugger and I thought I could help."

"But what were you doing there that night, at my house," she persists, "They never did tell me."

"I really have to go," the Doctor tells her, "I'm glad you're all right."

He tries to slip away again but Donna reaches out and grabs his arm. "I don't know what it is, but I can't seem to let you go," she explains, "Maybe it's the mugging because it feels like I don't want to be on my own right now. Look, let me at least buy you a coffee or something to thank you."

"You don't have to," he says, "I'm only visiting and I'm leaving today. As soon as possible, in fact."

The Doctor breaks free of her grip and manages to escape, leaving a confused Donna behind.

~*~

He told Christina that he didn't want to risk taking another companion along but that wasn't entirely true. The truth was Christina had sealed her own fate when she'd inadvertently called him Spaceman.

That was when the Doctor realised it. She wasn't Donna. Not only could he never replace her, but he didn't think he could stand a constant reminder of her in the TARDIS with him either. He didn't want anyone else to call him Spaceman ever again.

It had been different with Rose. As hard as it was to be parted from her, he knew he couldn't give Rose the life she deserved. When he saw her again later, he knew it had been for the best. She had blossomed on Pete's World. Nothing could be further from the truth when it had come to Donna.

Although it had been difficult at first, after Rose he was for the most part able to carry on with new friends and companions, because he knew Rose was fine and probably better off without him.

Donna was different.

She had been better _with_ him.

Wilf was the first to point it out and although Sylvia protested the Doctor knew it was true. That was what hurt so much. Donna had lost all of that growth, all of that potential. He returned her to her family a broken thing, broken by his own hands and he left their house in shame.

The Doctor looks down at his hands now, resting on the TARDIS console. He still remembers what it felt like to wipe her mind. When a Time Lord touches the mind of someone, the memories, the emotions stay with him forever, never fading. It isn't pleasant and provides a built in disincentive from doing it too often. You never know what you'll find there and once you've laid hold of something, it never lets you go.

So it was with Donna. He still feels her, every time he closes his eyes she is there. When he touched her, he experienced everything that she had in a furious rush of sensations. He felt her joy, her wonder, her sadness, her fear and even her self confidence as it grew, he felt that too. Like his human biological meta-crisis self, the Doctor took a bit of Donna inside him. He knew how she felt about him and he knew how she felt about herself.

And he knew that all of it had to go.

Every decision felt like stabs to both his hearts. Sifting through Donna's mind, he cherry picked the best bits and tossed them in the bin.

_There was Donna being clever on Messaline, working out what the numbers on the walls had meant. _

_Pick and toss._

_There was Donna being brave on the Sontaran ship, subduing the guard and re-energising the teleport._

_Pick and toss._

_There was Donna holding him tight on Midnight as he trembled in her arms, the best friend he ever had._

_Pick. _

_And toss._

_Destroyer of Worlds_, Davros had called him. He didn't know the bloody half of it.

Sure, the physical self was intact but the Donna he knew, and that knew him, was gone, back to her tabloids, telly and takeaways. She begged him not to do it, and though he knows he had no choice -- her life was in danger -- still he feels as though he violated her in the worst way imaginable. His darkest most guilt ridden side tells himself that he killed his best friend while she begged for mercy. He prevented her own Time Lord mind from doing it to her and instead he did the work himself.

_Is that why he's still here in Chiswick,_ he wonders, _because he can't carry on from that, no matter how he tries?_

~*~

In a house in Chiswick, Donna Noble can't stop thinking about a tall, dark stranger.

Moreover, she is becoming convinced that her family are keeping secrets from her. Her mother and grandfather sometimes exchange these looks or stop talking when she enters the room. Then there are other times when her grandfather looks at her sadly like Donna is the victim of some tragedy. When pressed he refuses to explain, makes some excuse and runs up the hill to his telescope.

Then a few days later, Donna and her family are sitting round the telly in the evening, watching a news report about a missing city bus. The number 200 drove through a tunnel and didn't come out again for several hours. The whole report is bit unclear, no one seems quite sure what happened exactly, but the video shows what looks like a military force helping the survivors off the bus. Witnesses give a strange incomplete account of what exactly happened. One of them says the bus actually took flight over London.

"Nutters," Donna comments.

Being interviewed is some scientist called Malcolm Taylor, a funny sort of stooped man in a lab coat, glasses and a permanent squint. He's talking about some kind of experiment gone wrong and how everything is now under control. Donna is beginning to lose interest and about to change the channel when she spots movement in the corner of the screen over the scientist's shoulder.

In the background, a man is seen walking away from the camera -- a tall, dark haired man in a long brown coat.

Donna sits up and points. "Do you see that man there?" she says, "He looks like the man who saved me from the mugger the other day."

There is a single beat of silence for a moment behind her and Donna gets that feeling again as her skin prickles. She turns to her mother and grandfather who have both grown stone faced.

"Come on then, who is he?" she asks them.

"How should I know," says Sylvia finally, "And by the way, about that mugging, you're lucky you weren't killed. What were you thinking going down that alley on your own?"

Donna refuses to be swayed. She points at the screen again. "_That_ man. He said his name was John Smith. I remember a John Smith was here, that night a few months ago when everyone was calling about planets in the sky. That was him wasn't it? Why was he here that night? _Who is he?_"

"I'm sorry Donna, I don't know what you're talking about. I've never seen that man before," says her mother.

Wilf leans over and turns off the TV. "Look at the time," he says with a stretch, "I'm off to bed."

"I know you're keeping something from me and I'm going to find out what it is!" she calls to them as they quickly make their exit into their bedrooms.

_Malcolm Taylor,_ thinks Donna, _I need to speak to him, maybe he can tell me who that man is._

The next day she finds a listing and rings him up at a place called UNIT labs.

"Dr. Taylor," she says, "My name is Donna Noble. I'm a freelance journalist and I'm doing a follow up report on the number 200 bus for my local paper, I was wondering if I could ask you some more questions about it?"

"Oh yes, whatever you need," he replies happily.

"Well according to my sources," she begins, "there was a man there that night, tall, dark haired, wearing a long brown coat do you remember?"

"Yes!" says Malcolm, "You mean the Doctor!"

"My source says he's called John Smith," she says, pretending to flip through notes, "is he some sort of doctor?"

"No," Malcolm corrects her, "he's just the Doctor. He's a legend he is! My best friend! Saved that entire busload of people singlehanded! A legend!"

_Talking of nutters,_ Donna thinks. She stops him gushing long enough to ask how she can get in contact with him.

"You can't," he says, as though it were obvious, "everyone knows the Doctor around here but I've only just met him the once. He comes when there's a need and then he's gone, like the wind."

"What like Batman?" she laughs, "Well he's got to live somewhere, haven't you got an address?"

"You don't understand miss, he doesn't live here, he's an _alien_."

"Stop it," Donna says.

"No really," Malcolm insists, "I don't think anyone knows how to reach him, but he's always out there, watching over us."

Donna is taken aback by his words, momentarily speechless.

"Hello miss?" says Malcolm, bringing her back, "Are you still there?"

"Yeah," she says finally, "Yes, I believe you're right. Thank you."

_Odd,_ she thinks, putting down the phone, _an alien? Why would he be watching over me?_

She knew John Smith sounded made up no one was called _John Smith_, not that _the Doctor_ was any better, but the scientist did seem certain. The Doctor, an alien from another planet.

She was just going to have to start searching for him in the most likely of places then. People report strange alien encounters all the time on the internet. She'll look for reports of any strange activity and hope he turns up at one of them. If Malcolm is right and he always steps in when there's a need, sooner or later their paths should cross.

~*~

Months go by, and crop circles, alien abductions and collapsing bee colonies all turn up nothing. Donna thinks back to her comment about Batman and wonders if the Doctor can be signalled somehow, with a light or a special phone.

She can't even explain exactly why she's so determined to find him, except that she feels like she's meant to, that he's important somehow. She doesn't fancy him or anything – she couldn't imagine putting her arms around anyone that skinny, he just isn't her type. No, the attraction goes deeper than that, like they share something in common. For all she knows they could be related, like a long lost cousin her family doesn't want to admit to that turned up on their doorstep one day asking for money. It's the most likely explanation for his strange home visit and her family's reactions. Each time she tries to bring up his name they flat out refuse to talk about it. So she decides to carry on in secret, not letting on what she's up to, since her mother and granddad would likely want to stop her.

Then one day, Donna is at the hair salon. The ladies around her are gossiping as they do, when one of them mentions an abandoned warehouse and some strange noises coming from it. Turns out her daughter had a friend who had a sister whose mates use the place for gatherings some nights. Then last Saturday, they saw something large and strange moving in the dark, heard a noise and ran. The next day they told everyone it was an alien.

Donna's ears perk up. The salon ladies are laughing, considering the story most likely a load of rubbish.

Before they could move on to the next topic of conversation, Donna turns.

"Where did you say this warehouse was?"

An hour later, Donna pulls up outside a large run down building. A former bottling plant, it looms now, appearing to produce nothing but the rubbish and weeds that litter the area. Donna steps over dead soldiers -- empty beer bottles no doubt the remains of the last teenage visit, before whatever was here had scared them away. She listens as she approaches the loosely chained doors, but all is silent. There is a gap between the doors and she slips inside.

It is dark and dusty, the windows mostly obscured with layers of dirt and she can barely make out her surroundings. Abandoned equipment litters the floor along with a several rats that made themselves at home. Looking up, she spies three levels of metal walkways around a large main interior, with ladders and stairs for getting up and down.

_Funny,_ she realises, _you would think a nice shelter like this would be full of homeless people. Maybe they're all out for the day. Or maybe whatever scared those kids is also keeping them away._

Donna steps lightly towards the centre of the warehouse floor and then freezes the instant she realises she's not alone. It is more a feeling than anything else at first, confirmed only a moment later by a soft rustling sound and what sounds like the purr of a large cat.

The rustling sound increases, like whatever is making it is suddenly nervous. She halts her approach. Donna wants to call out but is afraid to; she wants to see what's here first and despite the brightness of the day outside she is suddenly wishing she had the foresight to bring a torch.

Then the purr changes to a growl and Donna is close enough to see its shape.

It looks as though she has just walked into a small jungle. A green plant stands in the warehouse, wide as a house and nearly from floor to ceiling, swaying as though caught in a breeze except there is none. Long, curling vines extend from a main stalk and are waving about all over. Then the thing growls, a low guttural sound. Donna has never heard a plant make any sort of sound before, and she's too fascinated by it to be scared. The thing doesn't appear to have any discernible mouth.

_Should make it harder to eat me then, _she reasons.

She stands a few metres away from the thing now and can see it clearly. She watches it wondering what to do next, when a familiar voice rings out from the obscured opposite side of the beast.

"There now," he says, "Don't be afraid, I've just come to take you home."

It's the Doctor and he's talking to the plant, Donna realises, and he doesn't know she is there. Carefully, she takes a few steps to the side and around until she could just make out the Doctor's shape peeking out through the vines. He is removing something from his pocket that shines with a blue light, the same instrument she saw him with the other day. The beastie doesn't like that light, because it squeals and shakes harder when the Doctor presses the button on the side.

"Sorry, wrong setting," soothes the Doctor and he stops to make some adjustments.

He doesn't seem too bothered by the situation, so Donna decides it's safe to announce her presence.

"Doctor? It is Doctor isn't it, not John Smith?" she says, stepping out fully from behind the plant.

The Doctor is so surprised he leaps back, fumbling the sonic screwdriver. He stares into the dark.

"Donna?!" he replies.

"Yes!" says Donna, stepping closer, "Yes! It's me! I just knew I'd find you somewhere like this. I've been looking for you for ages now, and here you are!" She stops for air and looks up at the plant that seems to have grown a metre taller in the last five minutes. "What is that thing?"

"Look, Donna, I'd love to chat but I'm kind of busy right now," says the Doctor, returning to the settings on the screwdriver.

"No, I'm sorry," she says, "You're not sending me away again. I've got questions and you've got answers. I need to talk to you."

_Not again,_ thinks the Doctor, remembering their chance meeting at Adipose Industries even if Donna didn't. _You can't do this again Donna._

"I don't know what you mean," he tries, "Can't you just go home and live a nice quiet life?"

"My life is nowhere," she begins, her words pouring out like a flood, "I'm nothing but an out of work temp, and I don't even know why I'm telling you this but... I'm looking for something _more_."

"Well I'm not hiring, sorry," says the Doctor, turning back to the still unhappy plant.

"No, it's not that, it's..." Donna shakes her head, not sure what she means to say, "I was just hoping you might know what I'm looking for."

The Doctor is back to fiddling with the sonic screwdriver, but each adjustment seems to bother the plant more. The screeches coming from the creature increase and the Doctor has to raise his voice to be heard over them when he replies, "I'm sorry you think your life is so dull but maybe you should just travel or go do something interesting."

"Exactly! Can't I do that with you?" Donna asks, "Your life certainly seems interesting. I saw you on the telly, you were on that bus, the 200. What happened there?"

"Donna, go home," the Doctor says, "You can't be here."

"Why not?" she asks, "Who the hell are you anyway, and why do you keep turning up in my life?"

"I can't tell you that," he says, "it's for your own protection."

"But _why_? Have we met before, is there something special about me, if there is I want to know. I don't know why but, I think I _need_ to know. Am I special?"

"Yes you're special Donna," he sighs, dropping the sonic down and turning to her, "of course you're special, you're brilliant but...You don't have to settle for an ordinary life and a dead end job, you're Donna Noble...you should be..." He stops himself.

"How do you know so much about me?" she wonders.

"Because..." begins the Doctor, clearly conflicted, "Because we've done all this before! And you've forgotten. And that's all my fault. But it can't happen again."

_I've done all this before? What on earth was he on about? _

"Why is it your fault?" she asks.

But instead of replying, the Doctor turns away, his attention back on the creature thing that has begun to writhe and shake as though it were furious. He goes back to playing with the settings on the sonic screwdriver.

"Talk to me!" Donna begs, "Did you do something? What happened to me?"

"Just go home Donna," he says, face pained, "Please, just go home."

It is at that moment that the plant beast decides it has had enough of these two. As soon as the Doctor turns his back on it to plead with Donna it makes its move. It extends its vine-like tendrils and all at once wraps itself around the Doctor's arms, chest and neck. Donna leaps back in shock, clear of the remainder of the branches that spring out at her. She falls back and watches as the Doctor is lifted off the ground.

He still has the sonic screwdriver in one hand but the tool has no effect but to enrage the creature further. The beast responds by tightening its grip. The Doctor grits his teeth to stifle a yell, and the screwdriver falls from his hands and hits the floor with a useless clatter. It rolls and comes to a stop at the base of the plant, too close for Donna to safely reach.

"Doctor, what do I do?" she calls to him.

But the Doctor can't answer as his airway is closed off. The vines continue to curl and wrap themselves around his body like a cobra and the Doctor is struggling to breathe now, red-faced and eyes bulging. He hangs helpless several metres off the ground for a few seconds until the plant beast turns him upside down and first shakes him vigorously like a salt cellar, then pulls him in two directions like a piece of taffy. A few random items fall from his pockets, including a pen, a yo-yo and a small leather wallet. Donna watches helplessly from her safe distance, but the Doctor's lips are turning blue, his eyes are now closed and his limbs are going limp.

_Come on Donna, think,_ she tells herself, looking on in horror. _Why did this thing come here, why specifically here? _

She looks around the vast warehouse, her heart pounding over the creature's squeals. _It could have taken root anywhere, why this place?_

_Because it's big? No,_ she decides, _it may be big but there's even more room outside. _

She remembers the feeling of isolation she had when she had first entered. _Because it's abandoned? Probably not,_ she thinks, looking on at the Doctor's dangling body once more and wincing. _It doesn't seem to be afraid of people and it can certainly defend itself. _

_Because..._

_...because..._

_...because it's dark,_ realises Donna.

With a quick glance upwards she runs for the stairs.

"Hang on Doctor, I'll be right back!" she calls.

She races up the metal stairs, passing each walkway until she's as high up as she can go. During its tirade the creature has grown, its enormous leaves now brushing the ceiling of the factory. It clutches the Doctor close like a young child with a teddy bear. Donna closes her eyes and prays that her idea will work. Then she climbs up onto the railing of the highest catwalk.

She can just about reach the rusted tin ceiling. A panel is bent inwards and she grabs onto the corner and with a grunt of effort pulls it toward her. She holds on with both hands, feet balancing precariously on the railing as a lone sunbeam bounces off the roof tile. Moving it slightly, she directs the beam down at the creature, bathing it in the glow like a spotlight.

The plant squeals a horrible sound of pain and thrashes about but is unable to move away from the light. Exposed, its vines shrink back and it drops the Doctor to the ground with a heavy thud. Donna is elated but she waits, holding the light in place. The beast is visibly shrinking now, wailing and trembling. Donna's arms are aching and she can feel her feet losing purchase but she can't let go, not until that thing is no longer a danger.

Meanwhile, the Doctor hasn't moved, lying still in an awkward heap on the ground. Donna hopes she wasn't too late with her clever idea. Fighting the impulse to run down there she stays in place, waiting until the creature has shrunk down to the size of a small houseplant, no more threatening than one of her potted geraniums at home. When it finally stops screaming, she lets go of the roof panel and carefully climbs back down.

She is halfway back down to the factory floor when she hears a sharp gasp followed by racking coughs. Donna smiles and quickens her pace. By the time she reaches the Doctor he is pushing himself up from the ground with some effort. Donna runs to him but then stops up short, when she sees his tool with the little blue light on the floor. She picks it up and looks at it, entranced for a moment.

It feels warm to the touch. She's never seen anything like it before, doesn't even know what it is, and yet...there's something about it...

She startles as the Doctor, now behind her, gently reaches over and removes the sonic screwdriver from her fingers. He replaces it in his pocket, along with a handful of other loose items he has retrieved, all without a word of explanation, but his expression is serious. His hair is wild and there are angry bruises appearing in a ring around his neck but otherwise his look of concern is for her.

Donna looks at him and their stares connect for just a second and then the Doctor turns away. Instantly, his demeanour changes to a light bounce, as though he hadn't just been seconds from death.

"Well that didn't go quite as planned, but still," he proclaims loudly, "_molto bene_!"

"Are you okay?" she asks him, dumbfounded.

"Of course I am!" he says lightly, turning to face her once more, "and you're still brilliant!" He stoops and picks up the small potted plant. "Now I can take this little feller somewhere and plant him where he won't bother anyone."

"You said _still_ brilliant," notes Donna, "How do you mean, 'still'?"

"Did I?" the Doctor stammers, "No...I mean, I just...nothing."

"You said you knew me before," she presses, "Is that what I was like? Fighting that...thing, did we used to do that together?"

The Doctor slows, and for a moment Donna thinks he is ready to tell her everything. Instead he says, "You have potential, great potential, Donna. And I'm sorry. I'm really very sorry for..."

_...for what I did to you. What I had to do. What I took from you. What I destroyed._

His voice breaks and he stops. He looks away and back and starts again, "You're clever, and brave and compassionate. If you remember anything, remember that. Now go and be magnificent."

He turns and heads out across the expanse of the warehouse floor, the plant tucked under one arm, and Donna knows somehow that this is it, that this time he means to leave.

"You shouldn't be alone," she calls to him. "You need someone!"

A shadow stops walking but does not turn back. In the darkness a small voice is heard.

"I know," he says.

Donna stands there in the empty warehouse, the exchange echoing in her head. The words sound familiar but she doesn't know why, and before she can ask about them, he is gone.


End file.
